i've been searching for something
by buckyybarnes
Summary: The one where Steve is scrawny, asthmatic, and prone to illness and Bucky is basically Judd Nelson and nothing sad happens. (stevebucky high school au)


**title:** i've been searching for something

**summary: **The one where Steve is scrawny, asthmatic, and prone to illness and Bucky is basically Judd Nelson and nothing sad happens.

**pairing(s)****:** steve rogers/bucky barnes

**rating: **t

* * *

><p>When he first met Bucky Barnes, he was in the nurse's office getting cold medicine. He was sick again (although he was almost always sick, so it came as no surprise) and the nurse sighed quietly when she saw him. "Sit down on the cot there, Steve. I'll go get you some medicine."<p>

Steve nodded, not meeting her eyes, and hoisted his frail frame onto the cot. While she was gone, the door opened and a tall, lean boy came in, bringing with him the smell of smoke. He glanced down at Steve, a half-smile curving up his red lips, and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his beat-up leather jacket.

His hair was shaven on one side, revealing a pair of studs in his ear; Steve, glancing around his face for any other piercings, felt a slight thrill run through him at the sight of a lip ring. The boy was fiddling with it as he scuffed his shoes against the tiled floor.

"Jesus Christ, Barnes," the nurse said when she returned. "What did you do this time? I told you last week, you can't keep coming here to try and get out of trouble."

"I called Jack Forrester a bigoted asshole, but that's not why I'm here, ma'am," the boy said, smile hinting at danger. His voice was low and intoxicating and he shot Steve a sideways glance, as if gauging his reaction.

"Oh, is that so? Well, enlighten me, then. Why are you here?" the nurse asked, crossing the room to give Steve his medicine.

"I came to grab a lollipop. I'm trying to quit smoking, you know."

The nurse raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Really? Well, you let me know how that goes." She grabbed a cherry-red lollipop out of the jar on her desk and threw it at the boy, who caught it with a grin.

Steve, who had taken the medicine, stood and gave it back to the nurse. He snuck out, forcing himself not to look at the tall boy.

He stopped in the hallway a few feet away from the door and fumbled, hands shaking, for his inhaler. A few minutes later the boy came out, the lollipop in his mouth. He winked at Steve when he passed him, slouching off to his next class (or, more plausibly, to skip it).

Steve didn't see him again for a few days. Unsurprisingly, he was back in the nurse's office, although this time it was because he had gotten into a fight with a boy called Jimmy Walker, who had been beating up a freshman. Steve had come away from the fight with bloody knuckles, a black eye, and a nosebleed.

The nurse sighed and handed him an ice pack, a few tissues, and a roll of gauze. "Stay put, Rogers. I've got to go look at a kid on the football field," she said, and Steve nodded, wincing when he put the ice against his eye.

The nurse rushed out with a first aid kit and the silence she left behind seemed to grow and take shape. It was shattered a moment later when the door opened, revealing the tall boy from before. He grinned at Steve.

"The nurse isn't-"

"I know. I came to steal a couple of lollipops. I'm getting more addicted to them than I was to the cigarettes."

"Oh," said Steve. The boy grabbed a lollipop and stuck it in his mouth, looking at Steve like he was an interesting test subject.

"Why are you looking at me?" Steve asked shyly.

"Because you're cute," said the other boy, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. "I'm Bucky, by the way."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Bucky."

"Technically, it's James Buchanan Barnes, but James never stuck. You got a name?" Bucky asked, perching on the edge of the nurse's desk, hands in his pockets.

"Steve Rogers."

"Nice to meet you, Steve. Those are some impressive wounds you got there," Bucky said, nodding at Steve's knuckles. Steve blushed.

"I don't," he began, but stopped. "I'm not. Like that. I don't get into fights because I can. I just don't like bullies."

"Okay, Mister Hero, but that hand still looks pretty bad." Bucky grabbed a roll of surgical tape and crossed to the cot. Steve flinched away from him, but Bucky merely sat next to the smaller boy. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just want your hand."

Steve forced himself to relax and let Bucky take his hand in both of his. They were warm and surprisingly gentle as he cleaned and wrapped Steve's knuckles. Steve was almost certain that his heart was beating faster and more erratically than usual. He felt strangely warm as Bucky wrapped his hand, focusing on the work with a quiet intensity.

When he finished, Bucky peered at Steve from underneath his eyelashes, smiling just enough to make Steve swallow hard. "All better."

"Thank you," Steve managed, embarrassed by how breathy his voice sounded.

"No problem," Bucky said. He brushed his hair out of his face; his lips were bright red. Steve wondered if it was from the lollipop or if they were naturally like that. He realised he was staring and looked away, blushing.

"I'd better go before Nurse Stephens comes back and finds me here. You want to come with me?"

Steve looked taken aback. "Me? Go...with you?"

Bucky seemed hurt, but masked it with a nonchalant shrug. "You don't have to if you don't want to," he said, running a hand over the shaven side of his head.

"No, I want to," Steve said. "I was just surprised."

Bucky's grin came back in an instant and he stood up and stretched. "Cool. You ready to go?"

Steve nodded and slipped off of the cot. He placed the ice pack on the nurse's desk and followed Bucky out of the room and through the school, feeling incredibly small in comparison to the sheer confidence of Bucky.

"My car's over there," Bucky said, pointing at a spot in the parking lot, and led Steve to it. His car was an old black Mustang, with black leather on the seats and steering wheel. "It's not much, but it runs," Bucky said, trying to sound casual. The pride in his voice was nonetheless obvious, and Steve bit back a smile.

"It's nice. When did you get it?"

"My birthday last year." Bucky leaned back against the passenger side door, fishing around in his pocket before coming up with a cigarette and a Bic lighter.

Steve frowned. "What happened to quitting?"

"I am," Bucky said, taking a long drag. "Rome wasn't built in a day, y'know. I smoke when I'm nervous."

Steve felt breathless, but not in the normal, my-lungs-are-failing-and-I-am-having-an-asthma-attack way. He wanted to ask if Bucky meant that Steve made him nervous, but didn't. "I have asthma," he mumbled instead.

Bucky swore. "Shit, sorry, I didn't know," he said. He dropped the cigarette and stomped it out with his combat boot, looking sheepish.

"It's fine," Steve assured him. "Um. I should probably go in a few minutes, though. I'm supposed to go to the principal's office."

"You should get a bodyguard or something," Bucky said, "what with how often you get beat up."

Steve shrugged. "I don't exactly see anyone lining up for the opportunity to be my bodyguard, do you?"

"I'll do it," Bucky said.

"I thought you were the resident punk and hater of all law-abiding citizens like me?"

Bucky shrugged. "Think of it as community service. Besides, don't you have to go to the principal's office?" he added grumpily.

Steve's smile grew. "I will consider your application," he said, and began to walk back to the school.

Bucky stared after him for a minute before lighting another cigarette and taking a drag from it. He exhaled deeply and got in his car.

* * *

><p>Steve saw Bucky the next day, hands in his pockets, backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder. He winked at Steve when he saw him, fiddling with his lip ring with his tongue. Steve tried not to stare at his mouth.<p>

"Hey, Steve," said Bucky, rolling Steve's name around his mouth, getting used to the taste of it.

"Hey, Bucky," Steve said.

"See you at lunch?"

Steve knit his eyebrows together. "What for?"

"Lunch, dweeb."

He blushed. "Oh. Uh, yeah." Bucky grinned at him.

"Cool. Meet me outside at 11:30, okay?"

Steve nodded and Bucky ambled off, running a hand through his messy hair as he went. Steve's class ended at 11:20, so he waited outside until Bucky got there, wishing for a cigarette so that he would have something to do with his hands before he remembered his asthma, and sighed. He was ill all the time, a cough rattling through his lungs a good ninety percent of the year.

He bit absently at his fingernail until Bucky arrived at 11:30 on the dot. "Damn," Bucky sai, startling him. "And here I felt impressive, getting here on time and everything."

"Don't feel too bad," Steve said. "My class ended ten minutes ago so I figured I'd just wait for you."

"Oh. Well, that makes me feel slightly better. Anyway, you ready to go?"

Steve nodded. "Cool. Let's go," Bucky said. He led the way to his car, opening the passenger side door for Steve with a flourish, sweeping his arms out wide and bowing for dramatic effect.

"So, where are we going?" Steve asked when Bucky started his car.

"It's a secret," Bucky said, waggling his eyebrows. Steve looked unimpressed.

"I've only known you for two days, Bucky. I sure hope this plan doesn't involve anything nefarious."

Bucky laughed. "No, I think you're safe from that. Here-" he reached into the backseat and tugged out a battered cardboard box full of CD's "-pick out something to listen to."

Steve glanced at one on top. "The Clash?"

"England-based punk band."

"La Dispute?"

"Michigan-based post hardcore slash folk punk band."

"My Chemical Romance?"

"New Jersey-based pop punk band."

"Okay, I can see a recurring theme here," Steve said.

Bucky grinned wolfishly. "Just pick one."

Steve grabbed a random one and looked at the case, which was covered in Sharpie. "Happy pop punk songs for when you need some happy pop punk songs," he read aloud, sounding amused.

"Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging you," Steve protested, putting the CD in and leaning back in his seat.

"Sure you aren't."

They rode for ten minutes in comfortable silence, Bucky tapping the steering wheel in time to the beat. He turned on the blinker at an intersection and said, "We're here."

Steve looked around. Here was somewhat generous. They were outside what appeared to be a very rundown diner, although there were several other cars parked outside. "Where is here, exactly?"

"Lainey's Diner, only the best food in the fuckin' world," Bucky said. "Not much to look at, but the food is amazing and also not ground up rat shit and/or intestines like McDonald's."

"Sounds great," Steve said, and followed Bucky inside. The interior was far more welcoming than the outside; everything looked brand new, from the bright fluorescent lights to the smooth, unblemished material covering the seats.

The hostess smiled when she saw Steve and Bucky and led them over to a booth, placing two menus in front of them. "Your waitress will be over in just a minute, boys," she said. Bucky thanked her politely and turned to Steve, raising his eyebrows.

"What?" Steve asked, feeling shy.

"Nothing. So, Mister Steve Rogers, tell me about yourself. If we're going to be friends, I'm going to need to know stuff about you." Bucky put his chin in the palm of one of his hands and looked expectantly at Steve.

"Um, well, I get sick a lot and I have asthma and I-"

"I already know that stuff. Let's start small. How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Steve said, somewhat taken aback. Bucky looked pleased, although he didn't say why.

"Birthday?"

"Don't laugh," Steve said, "but it's July 4th." (Bucky laughed anyway, but only for a few minutes.)

"Do you have any pets?"

"No, but I've wanted a dog for as long as I can remember," Steve said.

"Siblings?"

"Nope. I'm an only child. Mom thought about adopting another kid, but it's too expensive and it's a really long process, so."

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "What's your favorite color?" he asked. Steve thought about it.

"Red," he said after a minute. "What's yours?"

"Blue. The exact same shade of your eyes," Bucky said without hesitation. Steve blushed.

Their waitress came over a minute later, introducing herself as Mindy and smiling flirtatiously at Bucky. After they had ordered, he looked over at Steve to find that he was scowling at his hands. "What's the matter?" Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. "Nothing."

"Are you jealous?" Bucky said, grinning in disbelief. Steve's scowl deepened.

"No," he said, but his cheeks were pink. Bucky leaned back in his seat, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"Okay, whatever you say," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

><p>The two had lunch every day for the rest of the week. By the following Monday, rumors had begun to spread about Bucky, the resident Bad Boy™, and Steve Rogers, the scrawny kid who was always getting into fights. Bucky told Steve about one of these rumors as they drove to lunch that day; apparently a girl in his history class had told him.<p>

"So you were in a fight, getting the literal shit beat out of you and I found you just as the Nameless Menace was about to deliver the final blow. I defeated the scourge heroically and swept you away to the nurse's office, where I sat by your side for hours until you woke up. I'm a little fuzzy on what happened next, but I think it involved me pulling a Judd Nelson and you being utterly charmed. Now I think we're either dating or engaging in some kind of sexual-tension fueled relationship."

Steve laughed. "Sorry to break it to you this way, but it's going to take more than a boombox to earn my affections."

"Damn, and there I thought I was onto something," said Bucky.

"Seriously, though, who even comes up with stuff like that? I mean, who believes any of it?"

"I dunno. I just find it kind of funny. That they even care enough to spread rumors. I almost hope they get even more ridiculous."

"Plot twist: I'm an astronaut and on our first date I take you to Mars."

"I'm a famous racecar driver in disguise as a high-schooler. I take you to all of the races and introduce you to rich foreign diplomats," Bucky countered, grinning.

"We're eloping—no, wait, we're already married. We're just trying to keep it quiet so that our parents don't find out," said Steve.

"We're aliens from another galaxy who were soulmates but got separated somehow and didn't find each other until now," Bucky said. "Beat that, punk."

* * *

><p>They were at Steve's house two weeks later, watching a movie when he asked. "Bucky?"<p>

The older boy turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

"Are you—are you gay?" Steve blurted before he could stop himself, turning a violent shade of red. Bucky looked at him, straightfaced, for about thirty seconds before collapsing in a fit of laughter.

"No, you dumbass, I'm bi," he wheezed. Steve looked utterly bewildered, and Bucky tried to calm down enough to speak. "Steve, I've been openly bi since I started going to our school three years ago. There are rumors about me and literally every person on the football team, although to my credit only one is true. Maybe two. Steve, you've been going here for two years, and you're telling me you never heard a single rumor?"

"I didn't even know you existed until a few weeks ago, really," whispered Steve, cheeks even redder than before. "I thought—you just seem sort of-"

"Sort of what?" Bucky said, intrigued. The red spread down Steve's pale neck.

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like kind of a—a womanizer," Steve confessed sheepishly. Bucky had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing again.

"A _womanizer_? Really?"

"Sorry," Steve squeaked. He looked mortified and, if Bucky was being honest, pretty damn adorable. Bucky's smile softened, took on an unusual gentleness.

"Yeah, I'm gay," he said. Steve blinked at him, blue eyes unfairly vivid, and Bucky felt the sudden, intense urge to kiss the light freckles that were scattered like dust across his nose and cheeks.

The movie was still playing and both boys were painfully aware of the fact that the door to Steve's bedroom was closed, that the rest of the house was empty. Several long moments passed, and just as Bucky thought that the mood in the room was returning to normal, Steve spoke again.

"I've never—kissed anyone before," and he sounded breathless and Jesus _Christ_, his fucking _eyes_. Before Bucky could answer, could even begin to think of something to say to this, Steve said, "and I want to, to kiss someone, but I want it to be special and I know that that's ridiculous, but-"

"Steve, can I kiss you?" Bucky interrupted, heartbeat thumping in his ears.

Steve waited a long moment before nodding, and he let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a whimper when Bucky kissed him, fingers coming up to thread through his dark hair. Bucky pulled away far, far too soon, pupils dilated, breath coming in quick huffs. "Jesus," he said. "You have no idea—_no idea_—how long-"

He stopped short, running a hand through the hair that Steve's fingers had just vacated. "Jesus," he said again. Steve's eyes were wide and he was staring, open-mouthed, at Bucky.

"You taste like..." he began, trailing off after a second, fingers barely touching his mouth, trying to find the words. Bucky smirked.

"Sex? Drugs? Rock and roll?"

Steve shook his head. "Cherry lollipops," he said, and the smile he gave Bucky was enough to make anyone melt.


End file.
